


Cursed Kisses

by JHCSEOKK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Harry, Bottom Harry Potter, Fluff, Gay Draco Malfoy, Hermione is sick of Harry's shit, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Indian Harry Potter, Lots of make out sessions (hopefully), M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, My First Fanfic, Romance, Top Draco, Top Draco Malfoy, draco drinks bourbon like a badass bitch, hope you like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHCSEOKK/pseuds/JHCSEOKK
Summary: Harry thinks Draco's lips are cursed. I mean, why else would he snog him senseless?





	Cursed Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tepre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tepre/gifts).



> Since this is my first time posting my writing on AO3 (however definitely not my first time writing in general) I'm all up for constructive criticism! 
> 
> Hope you like this (partially unfinished) Drarry fic!
> 
> My tumblr is here: [https://jhcseokk.tumblr.com/](url)

Friday nights at the Three Broomsticks with his friends were the only thing that kept Harry Potter sane. A night out with his friends while drinking excessive amounts of beer meant less time cooped up in the 8th year common room. While the fireplace and couches proved comfortable with frequent homework sessions, it often became suffocating with the mass amount of students that loitered and talked loudly after classes or during study hall. The Three Broomsticks had a comfortable atmosphere with an old bartender that managed to strike up a conversation as easily as it was for Harry to cast expelliarmus.

One thing Harry noticed recently, however, was the constant staring he received by a certain boy with blond hair. His grey eyes would pierce right through him and cause goosebumps to raise on his arms and on the back of his neck. Draco Malfoy made it obvious when he was staring, his entire body turned to him. Such as now, his gaze piercing right over Hermione’s shoulder as he sat with his legs crossed and his entire body turned to Harry. One hand was resting on his skinny jean clad thigh while the other held a small glass of what was supposedly hard liqueur. 

Harry took another sip of beer from his emptying glass and sighed, his shoulders slumping and his chest bumping into the edge of the table the golden trio sat at. Ron and Hermione sat close together, taking sips of their drinks and talking of their latest homework assignment. Harry’s eyesight wavered and the room spun momentarily. 

“You alright Harry?” Hermione set her glass of red wine on the table and moved her attention from her boyfriend to Harry in front of her. 

He glanced behind Hermione’s shoulder to look at Draco who still sat there, posture stiff and his eyes trained on the curly haired boy across the room.

“Yeah... I think,” Harry slurred a bit, his hand moving to rub his eyes, “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

Hermione’s lips quirked upwards into a smirk . “You’ve only had two pints of beer Harry.” Ron took another swig of his beer before setting the empty glass on the table, running his finger across the thin rim of the cup in what is presumably boredom. 

“Well it’s either that or Malfoy over there,” Harry tilted his head towards the lonesome boy sitting at the bar sipping his drink, “has a staring problem with yours truly,” he rocked his glassware on it’s bottom, the clanging drowned out by the loud crowd behind the couple in front of him. 

“Malfoy?” Ron tossed a look over his shoulder, “what is he doing? Planning something again?” 

Hermione took a quick glance over her shoulder and snickered, “he’s planning something alright,” she turned back to Harry with devilish look, “planning to shove his dick up your arse.” She finished off her glass of wine and poured herself more from the bottle that sat on the table.

Harry choked on his own spit.

“Mione!” Ron’s jaw dropped.

“You know what,” Harry jumped upwards suddenly, knocking the table forward, Hermione managing to save the half full bottle of red wine that threatened to fall off the table, “I’m getting another beer.” He stepped out of the booth and swayed momentarily, catching Ron’s eye.

“Mate, didn’t you just say you were drunk?” He rolled his eyes and pushed his empty beer glass towards the swaying boy, “get me one too.” Hermione grabbed a menu and glanced over it momentarily, “and get a plate of chips, please.”

Harry glared and grabbed the empty glasses, “honestly, I’d do anything to get away from ‘Mione after that comment.” She chuckled and set the menu down. 

“I can’t help but state the truth. Besides, you’re incredibly oblivious to everything around you, so what’s pointing out some vital information going to do?”

“It’ll kill me that’s what it will do.” Harry replied smartly before stumbling off towards the bar, ignoring the couple’s incessant snickering behind him. He continued to walk up to the bar, not noticing Draco’s hard stare, but feeling it. Dark grey eyes burned into the side of Harry’s honey tanned face as he leant against the bar. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding to meet Draco’s. Both boys were the farthest they could be by occupying the same bar. Harry rubbed the side of his face, the skin smooth across the palm of his hand.

Draco on the other side of the bar didn’t stop staring, Harry’s every movement registering in his mind. The way Harry’s curls bounced when he moved his head towards the bartender, the way his long eyelashes brushed against the top of his cheeks when he blinked, the enticing way the corners of his lips upturned naturally when he spoke as if smiling every time he conversed. Good lord, don’t get him started on those bright green eyes. Harry Potter was every gay man’s wet dream except more to Draco. Harry was a hot mess with emphasis on both the hot and mess. (Although Draco would rather put even more prominence on hot.) One aspect of the Desi boy that always seemed to drive Draco crazy was the lighter toned scar that ran from the top of his forehead to the crackling, jagged marks of a lightning-like scar running through his bright green eyes to the top of his right cheek.

“Fuck…” Draco took another sip of his bourbon and watched as Harry’s jaw clenched. By the clenched facial features it was obvious he was getting angry and Draco knew just the remedy. He tossed back his drink and as swift as a swan, he uncrossed his legs and slid off the stool. This time, hearing the clicking of heels, it was Harry’s turn to stare. The bartender who was previously talking to him left to get more drinks, giving Draco leeway to do what he’s been aching to do for at least 2 years. 

“Malfoy what are you doi–”

Long pale fingers clasped around Harry’s face and pulled him close, their faces only inches apart. Harry’s breathing was quick and raspy, Draco however was more controlled, the scent of bourbon lingering on his lips, driving Harry crazy with drunk-induced lust and confusion. 

With a quick smirk beforehand, Draco moved forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s, his eyes fluttering shut. There was a dry warmth that spread across both boys lips until Draco leaned in more, and Harry at that point stopped breathing altogether. He didn’t pull away, but instead moved more into the kiss, one hand resting on the bar stool behind him and the other resting on Draco’s hip. He too kissed back moving his lips in correspondence with Draco’s. Both boys were so caught up in the moment that the obscene amount of stares on them went unnoticed. 

Harry’s pulse thudded when Draco’s hand moved to his chest, no doubt in his mind that he could feel his heartbeat. Both boys pressed closer together, Harry’s hand moving up Draco’s side to grace his side with a gentle squeeze. In turn his face flushed when Draco finished the open mouthed kiss with a tiny lick of Harry’s lower lip.

Almost immediately he craved more, leaning in as Draco pulled away. The blond’s lip quirked upwards at the obvious craving and shoved Harry away with the hand that was once resting on his chest. Harry stumbled back into the bar seat behind him, his lust induced daze broken. Draco gave the honey boy an unreadable glance before sauntering out of the Three Broomsticks with a sway in his hips. Harry stood there frozen, his jaw dropped and beer forgotten.

“What the fuck?”

-

“Hermione, Malfoy’s lips are cursed!” Harry ran through the empty schoolyard, out of breath and his scarf blowing out behind him. The cool Autumn air nipped at his bare cheeks and managed to squeeze through the knits of his Weasley sweater, “Hermione please help, I need your input.” He slowed down to a walk before keeling over in front of the couple who sat reading a book under a tree.

Hermione tutted and slammed her book shut, “why on earth would his lips be cursed?” Her lips pursed, “I thought your obsession with Malfoy ended years ago?”

“Was it his cursed lips that made you forget my beer and just leave?” Ron cut in with a scoff before Harry could reply. He tugged on his sweatshirt, “yeah, I’m still angry about that by the way, mate.” 

Harry didn’t have anything to say in reply, only a quiet grunt. 

“Well?” Hermione urged, “so how did you come to the conclusion that his lips are cursed?”

At the mention immediately Harry spoke out, “well how the hell else do you explain the fact he snogged me senseless?” Hermione was speechless, “we’ve been sworn enemies since first year!”  
“Really Harry,” she deadpanned, “honestly Harry, how thick headed are you?” She dropped her textbook on the ground with a thud. Ron held back a laugh behind his hand, “good lord, Harry. There has to be something that would give you a clue over how Malfoy feels. Even I’ve seen the evidence in front of my damn eyes.”

“And Rons as thick as they get.”

“Hey,” he practically hissed at Hermione. 

“Are you saying that you’re oblivious to the fact that Draco likes you?” Hermione sighed and leaned back a fraction, tucking a strand of curled black hair behind her ear. 

“He likes me?!” Harry’s jaw dropped and he spun around, his hands running through his hair as he stared out towards the great lake. “Oh my god what do I do?”

Ron laughed loudly, disrupting a group of students eating sandwiches on the other side of the courtyard, their glares boring into the red head, “what the hell does he see in you?” 

Hermione slumped forward on the bench, running a hand down her face, “oh my god… Why am I friends with idiots?”

 

The next week, Harry ran through the halls of Hogwarts late to Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. “Oh shit, I’m so late. God, Hermione’s gonna kill me,” he huffed out. His shoulder bag bounced on the side of his hip and the papers in his hands were gripped tightly. He rounded multiple corners his trainers slapping against the marble floors. With one final corner he slammed dead into a pile of books and a body. 

Harry’s papers flew as did the other person’s books. Both of them fell back onto the ground from the force. “God dammit Potter, one would think those glasses would at least help you see where you’re going. Obviously they’re as shite as they look.” The familiar voice of Harry’s “nemesis” barked out. 

Harry’s glasses were in fact crooked on his nose. He adjusted them quickly, his eyesight clearing as he looked over at Draco with his dress shirt untucked and his hair ruffled to messy perfection. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for you to also pay attention to where you’re going.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry quipped out quickly, “I wasn’t aware people didn’t have classes on Monday afternoons.” It went deathly silent, the large empty corridors of Hogwarts only magnifying the silence. Both boys sat on the ground surrounded by scattered papers and textbooks.

“Was that a diss or a compliment on my knowledge?”

“I mean…” Harry realise his mistake and looked from the marble floor to the cracked ornate ceiling, glancing everywhere but at the boy in front of him. 

Malfoy sat with his legs spread in front of him, his attention fully on the Indian boy who’s discomfort was achingly obvious. The blond moved closer, covering up his true intentions by picking up his heavy textbooks. His mind was once on studying but now it was on something entirely different. Harry began to do the same, his mind entirely focused on getting to class as quickly as possible, his loose homework gathered together in his left hand. 

“Potter.”

“Malfoy,” Harry replied with a snarl as instinct before looking up and finding that the other boy was in close proximity. In almost immediate reaction, the wind was knocked from his lungs and the snarl dropped in expectation. His face flushed red and he was hyperware of every movement made by the pale boy in front of him. His palms began to sweat and the paper that were gripped in his hand crumpled from the clenching of his fist.

Harry took note of the glistening of Draco’s grey eyes and his hard stare that mirrored his. His mind completely blanked before he mustered the Gryffindor courage to close the gap between them both, right in the middle of the school corridor. Draco’s hand rested on Harry’s thigh while he used his other hand as leverage to kneel over his body. A slow moan erupted from Harry’s throat as the other boy took control of the sensual kiss. Their hands roamed and their mouths clashed. Harry was becoming more and more focused on Draco’s lips on his.

His heart pounded and his fingers clenched the expensive feeling fabric that framed Draco’s lean body, and everything in him screamed to keep the snarky boy closer. With that, he pulled him closer, one hand snaking to the nape of Draco’s neck, his fingers tangling into the soft blond strands at the base of his spine. With a light tug Draco responded with a squeeze of Harry’s thigh, and god if that didn’t make Harry respond more to the kiss on mere whim. 

Draco opened his mouth partially and slipped his tongue carefully into the kiss, adrenaline pumping through his veins at the prospect of more. He slipped an ice cold hand up Harry’s wrinkled dress shirt, coming into contact with a soft warm stomach. Running a hand across Harry’s stomach and letting the soft curls of hair tickle the pads of his fingers made Draco silently crave more skin to skin contact. 

The pale blond was practically looming over Harry, his lips pressing and kissing Harry’s ever so gently, with tender passion pouring into every movement he made until all at once with a rough shove, Draco was pushed away from the other with a force that was strong however much softer than how they usually knocked each other around with.

Harry leant back on his right elbow, the other arm covering his lips. Harry lowered his arm with a grumble and avoided eye contact. “Are you…” He paused, licking his already swollen and reddened lips that imitated the flush on his usually tanned skin, “are your lips cursed?”  
That was the last thing Draco expected to hear from the boy across from him. “I-I’m sorry?” His jaw dropped, “are my… My lips cursed?” He stuttered out. He frowned and gathered his books quickly and ungracefully scrambled to his feet. “Are you fucking with me?” He began to hyperventilate in both anger and embarrassment, his pale cheeks flushing a bright pink by the second. “Insufferable git,” he gritted out before stopping in front of Harry with his books piled high in his hands. 

“I can’t believe you! If my lips were cursed I wouldn’t have spent each aching second in the Three Broomsticks mustering up the courage to even move towards you! Of course they’re not you pillock!” Draco spun around and stormed off, practically running away from the clueless boy.

Harry sat up from off of the cold hard floor and watched as Draco rounded a corner down the corridor and disappeared. His heart throbbed at the loss of the other boy and he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He managed to pull himself together and gathered up his overflowing shoulder bag and crumpled papers off the floor with lonesome struggle. Instead of following up his earlier plans to go to Herbology, he moved to walk up to the 8th year common room and did so with dragging feet.

“What the hell do I do now?”


End file.
